A White Christmas
by Romantique The Original
Summary: A little Christmas one-shot. Takes place in Season 1. A Gary and Marissa fic.


Title: A White Christmas

Author: Romantique

Classification: General/Friendship

Rating: T

Summary: A little Christmas one-shot. A Gary and Marissa fic.

Disclaimer: This fic takes place in Season 1 of Early Edition.

Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.

A/N: There are Gary and Marissa fans out there. This one is for you. Merry Christmas!

_Blackstone Hotel_

It was Christmas Eve. Gary Hobson had just arrived back at his dark, dump of a hotel room after a full day of holiday rescues, directed by The Paper. He was glad to be home, at least his makeshift home, and he flipped on the light switch, toed off his sneakers, and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower. It felt good to stand under the hot water as it ran down over his head and shoulders … washing away the dirt and tensions of the day. The muscles in his arms and legs, back and neck were tight and achy from running all over Chicago, but soon, they began to let go and relax under the hot jet spray. Gary always said the Blackstone Hotel may be a dump, but the showers had good water pressure and the towels were free.

He wished he could stay in the warm water cocoon of the shower forever without a care in the world, but eventually the water temperature began to change, bringing him back to reality. Gary knew what that cooler water meant in the winter so, he quickly grabbed for the shampoo and bar of soap and began to lather up. Then, he rinsed and shut the water off just as it turned cold. As water dripped from his hair and into his eyes, he reached around the shower curtain and pulled a fresh towel off the towel bar. Dabbing beads of water off his face with the soft cotton towel, he then wrapped it around his waist. As he stepped out of the shower, he reached out to wipe the steam off the medicine cabinet mirror with his open hand, enough to where he could see to brush his teeth. While brushing, he decided his five o'clock shadow could wait until morning. When he was finished, he swished his mouth out with a glass of water and ran a quick comb through his wet, jet black hair and applied some deodorant.

Then, he headed towards the chest of drawers near his bed, and he pulled out some clean clothes: a set of sweats, boxers, and a pair of white socks. He continued to towel off and then dressed himself, tossing his wet towel into the bathroom, where it landed on the tiled floor. As he put the socks on his feet, his stomach began to growl. He was starving.

It was Christmas Eve, and all Gary had in the kitchen to eat was a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bunch of ripe bananas. He had been so busy, a trip to the grocery store during Christmas week was something he had been unable to schedule in. All of a sudden, he remembered he still had some milk and a box of homemade cookies and other goodies his Mom and Dad sent him for Christmas, along with a scarf his Mom knitted for him and $50.00 in cash. He decided he'd better eat some actual food before diving into the sweets, so he began to make himself a peanut butter sandwich.

He was interrupted by a light rap at the door. Gary dropped what he was doing and walked over to the door and looked out the peephole. He was surprised to see it was his friend, Marissa Clark, and her guide dog, Spike. Upon opening the door, Cat scurried inside from the hallway.

"What are you doin' here?" Gary asked Marissa. "I thought you were on your way to spend Christmas in Detroit with your mother?"

"I changed my mind," she said.

"Why?" Unknown to the blind Marissa, Gary faced looked puzzled. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she answered his questions. "It's just that I got to thinking. Chuck's out of town, and you would be here all alone for Christmas."

"Yeah, the Paper's not too big on giving me holidays off," he complained. "Yule Tide disasters seem to come with the territory, but that's still no reason for _you_ to miss out on Christmas with _your_ family." He sounded sincere.

"Even so, it's Christmas, Gary," she smiled. "And we're like family. I'll see my mom in time for Christmas dinner tomorrow." And then, she held out a wrapped box. "I got you a little something."

Gary sighed taking the box from her. "Geez. Now, you're makin' me feel bad. I don't have anything for you. Really. I didn't have time to get anyone anything this year. Not even Mom and Dad."

"I don't give to get," she informed him. "And besides, Spike is the most wonderful I gift I've ever received, for all my birthdays and Christmases combined."

"Yeah. Spike is a tough gift to top," he had to agree. "Well, c'mon in," he opened the door wider to let them in, closing it behind him.

"I was just going to make myself a peanut butter sandwich," Gary explained as he followed Marissa in.

She managed to find her way to the sofa and took a seat with Spike on the floor, right beside her.

"You're eating peanut butter on Christmas Eve?" she asked. "Boswell just stopped me in the hallway and mentioned they have a very nice Christmas buffet in the hotel. He said to call him, and he'd be happy to bring us some food."

"Really?" Gary asked.

It was his first Christmas at the old Blackstone since his separation from his wife, Marcia.

"That actually sounds pretty good," he said. He walked over to the phone on his nightstand, set the gift on the bed, and dialed the Front Desk. "I'd like to order some Room Service," he spoke into the receiver. "Sure, whatever you have would be good. Yeah, turkey and all the trimmings would be great." Then, he turned to Marissa. "What kind of pie do you want? They have pumpkin, apple, and pecan."

"Mmmmm. Pecan," she answered, as she unwrapped herself from her scarf and gloves.

"How's about a piece each of the pumpkin and pecan?" he continued with his order. "Yeah, just charge it to my room. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone, he informed her, "It'll be about twenty minutes. I don't mean to be rude, but I'm gonna make myself a sandwich. I'm starved and trust me, it will not spoil my appetite. Do you want one?"

He then sat the gift down on his nightstand.

"No, thanks, but you go right ahead," she said, now removing her coat and folding it neatly, next to her.

He walked the short distance to his kitchen and proceeded to talk while he poured Cat a saucer of milk and made himself a quick, open faced sandwich. "I hope you're okay with staying inside tonight. I just took a shower and was going to eat and hit the hay. But now that you're here, we could have dinner and visit for a while. Sorry I'm not more exciting."

"I figured you'd be pretty tired, tonight," she said. "You usually are after a hard day of saving the Windy City."

"I'm just glad you're understanding," he said in between bites of the peanut butter and bread.

He devoured it in about four bites flat and chased it with a glass of milk. He then brought out his mom's box of treats.

"I can offer you some of my Mom's cookies, fudge, or divinity," he said proudly.

Marissa smiled like a little kid. "You're mom makes divinity? Oh, I'd love to have a piece of that."

He ran back into the kitchen and came back with a small plate and placed it right in front of her on the coffee table with two pieces of divinity on it. Then, he directed her to it.

"Wow," she said as the white confection reached her mouth and then, her tongue. "So good."

"Yeah, Mom's treats are the best," he said, selecting a piece of the chocolate fudge, his favorite. "It's like having a little piece of home for the holidays." He popped the piece into his mouth and waited for it to melt. After a swallow, he asked, "Does your mom make any specialties for Christmas?"

"Sure," Marissa nodded, taking another bite of divinity. "We always have a ham, collard greens, and sweet potato pie. And my Mom likes to make rum balls. They're really good, too. I'll bring you some tomorrow if my cousins don't eat them all."

It was about that time there was a wrap at the door. It was Boswell. Gary opened the door, allowing the bellman entrance.

"Dinner is served," Boswell said in his Aristocratic way which was strange because he mostly worked for tips.

"Thank you," Gary said and pulled a twenty out of his wallet.

"Oh, no money required, Mr. Hobson," Boswell informed him. "It's already been charged to your room."

"This is for you," Gary smiled. "Merry Christmas, Boswell."

A little flustered, Boswell took the bill. "Thank you, sir. And a Merry Christmas to the both of you."

With that, he tipped his cap and backed his way out the door, closing it behind him.

"How about we eat on the sofa?" Gary suggested and began clearing off the coffee table.

He then began to bring the covered dinner plates, bread basket, glasses, ice water pitcher, coffee carafe, rolled napkins with utensils, condiments, and slices of pie to the table. He set up everything in front of Marissa he thought she might need.

"Your glass is at one o'clock, to the northwest of your plate. I filled it with water," he explained.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, what is on the plate?" she asked as Gary lifted the cover to take a look.

"Well, you have turkey from 6 to 12 on the west side of the plate," he described. "Asparagus between 1 and 3, and mashed potatoes and gravy are between 3 and 6. And in the center of the plate is a little cranberry sauce."

"Mmmmm," she said with a smile. "It smells wonderful."

She asked for some salt and pepper, and Gary obliged. She also asked for lemon for her asparagus.

Gary dug into the potatoes first and grabbed a roll to dip into the gravy. The carbohydrate load, after the fudge and the peanut butter sandwich, began to get to him. He was already feeling full, and he looked at the big pile of turkey on his plate and asked, "Do you think it would be okay to give Spike some turkey? I seem to have plenty here."

"I'm sure Spike would like that very much," she said. "Please, take some of mine for him, too."

And she pushed aside some of her meat with her fork. Gary took it along with his and placed it on a saucer, on the floor next to the German shepherd.

"It's okay, Spike," Marissa reached down and petted her dog. "You can have it."

"Oh, no you don't, Cat," Gary reached down and grabbed the old orange Tabby who was nosing his way into the dog's turkey dinner. "That's for Spike. I have some tuna for you in the kitchen."

He carried the feline into his kitchen, placed him on the counter, and opened a small can of tuna for the old guy. "Merry Christmas," he said as he placed the can in front of his unlikely little pal.

Everyone was happily eating, as Gary walked back into the living area. When he looked up and out the window, he couldn't help but notice it was snowing outside.

"Looks like we're going have us a White Christmas," he said approaching the window.

"Is it snowing?" Marissa asked, a little concerned.

"Yeah, it's really coming down," Gary looked up the sky and saw the pink clouds filled with precipitation illuminated by the street lights.

He saw a look of concern come over her face.

"Hey, now listen," he could read that look. "You and Spike can stay here tonight, you hear? You two can have the bed, and Cat and I will take the sofa."

"Oh, Gary, I don't want to take your bed," she said.

"Don't even worry about it," he shook his head.

Looking down at Spike, the dog had finished eating the turkey.

"How about I take Spike out for a walk before it gets too bad, and then, you two can get settled in for the night?" he suggested. "Maybe we can find a Christmas special or something on the TV?"

He then grabbed his jacket, the scarf his mother made him out of the gift box, and slipped his socked feet into his tennis shoes.

"White Christmas is on tonight," she smiled a big one. "That's always a good movie for Christmas Eve. I know it by heart."

Gary nodded and a smile came over his face as well. "White Christmas it will be. All the way around." Then, he reached down and grabbed Spike's harness. "C'mon, Spike. Let's go outside for a quick walk."

He left with the dog and took him outside of the front of the hotel. After Spike took care of his business, they came back inside, and Gary ran into Boswell near the elevators.

"Look, you know my friend Marissa?" Gary began. "And this is her Guide Dog, Spike?"

"I've met them both, sir," Boswell nodded.

"The snow is really coming down, and the two of them will be staying with me tonight," he explained. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Well, not if it's not a problem for you," the bellman explained. "Guide Dogs are allowed in our hotel."

"Oh," Gary nodded, somewhat surprised. "Well, that's good to know."

"Yes," Boswell concurred. "And your friend, Marissa, is a lovely woman."

"Yeah, Marissa's great," Gary agreed. "Thanks, Boswell. You have a good night. Merry Christmas."

"Just sit your tray with the dirty dishes outside your room, and I'll pick it up in a bit, before I go off shift," Boswell added. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Hobson," Boswell tipped his cap, as Gary hit the elevator button and took the ride upstairs.

Soon, he and Spike returned to his room. Marissa had figured out how to turn on the television and found the station she wanted. She was still working on her asparagus that she said was perfectly cooked.

"Thanks for taking him out," Marissa said as Gary took off his coat and scarf.

"No problem," he said, gathering up their dirty dishes and placing the on the tray outside his door, in the hallway.

Once inside, he cut out some of the lights and made his way to the sofa, taking a seat next to Marissa.

"Would you like some coffee with your pie?" he asked.

"Yes, please," she said. "Hey, aren't you going to open your gift?"

"Yeah," Gary had forgotten all about it. He hopped up and grabbed the box from the nightstand. After he joined Marissa again, he peeled the wrapping paper off the box and opened it up. Spying a really nice pair of black leather gloves, he said, "Nice. These will come in real handy this winter."

"Do they fit?" she asked.

He shoved his hand into one of the gloves that were still connected from the packaging. "Like a glove," he quipped.

Marissa was pleased.

Further down in the box, Gary found a box of ground Lavazza Classico Blend coffee and a box of almond biscotti from Little Italy.

"Alright," Gary smiled with approval. "I know what we're having for breakfast in the morning. And I love that it's none of that foo-foo coffee that Chuck buys. Ama-mocha-hazel-cinnamon-Colombian … whatever." After a beat he added, "Thank you, Marissa. This is a very thoughtful gift."

And he gave her a hug.

They had their coffee and pie, and afterwards, Gary cleared off the dessert dishes. As Marissa made her way to the bathroom, Gary grabbed a large afghan from the chest of drawers that his mother crocheted for him, walked back over to the sofa, and leaned back putting his feet up on the coffee table. Cat and Spike made their way to the foot of the bed and snuggled into one another. A few minutes later, Marissa made her way back to the sofa and sat down beside Gary. He offered her one end of the afghan, and the two sat there watching and listening to the Bing Crosby classic film, _'White Christmas.'_

What started off as a total loser of a night alone turned out to be a perfect Christmas Eve.

Full of good food and spent from the long day, it didn't take long for the two to nod off together on the sofa, just as the dog and the cat had done. Their heads touched on the back of the sofa, as they naturally snuggled into the afghan and eventually into each other.

_~fin~ _


End file.
